A Second Chance
by Naners91
Summary: Harry and Draco run into each other twelve years after the war. Rated M for second chapter.
1. Chapter 1

_**Title: **_A Second Chance

_**Summary: **_Harry and Draco run into each other twelve years after the war.

_**Word Count: **_1,401

_**Disclaimer: **_I own not Harry Potter.

_**A/N: **_Enjoy!

Harry was really happy. Sure, he had to leave his friends and surrogate family behind, but it wasn't like they couldn't Floo or visit when they had the time. Mostly he was happy that he didn't have to live in the limelight anymore; it was a perk of living at a magical home, yet in a Muggle city. He really did try, though, at least at first. He spent four years after the war trying to be a Hogwarts professor, but the Prophet still somehow managed to make him feel it was his responsibility to make sure the Wizarding world was protected. So, instead, he moved to New York, went to college, got a degree in journalism, and was now working for what Harry called a 'hobby' magazine.

His latest assignment, which he'd just received this morning, was to go to a gallery opening tomorrow night and write up an article, critiquing the artists' work, with a spotlight on their background. Well, he didn't know anything about art, so that was a hindrance, but it sounded like fun and the article wasn't even due for two weeks, unlike most of his assignments. _I guess I get to actually enjoy myself this time._ The rest of the day was spent in the office, finalizing edits to his previous articles and making sure the rest of his team was caught up.

The morning of the opening, Harry was excused from work and decided to take his tea to the balcony, reading the Muggle newspaper. He skimmed an article about the event he was attending tonight, but there were no pictures of the artist anywhere, just a name: Drevon Malcolm…_must be French or something._ The rest of the day he spent exercising and then playing his Wii, which he was rather fond of; especially this game called Just Dance.

At a quarter to six, Harry took a shower and dressed in black slacks paired with a grey button-down shirt and a sport coat he'd bought from a store called Barneys. He ran some gel through his wild ebony locks, brushed his teeth, made sure he had all his pens and notepads in his messenger bag, and was out the door by 6.30. Harry walked the four blocks it took to the venue, and waited in line to enter. _Gosh, this guy must be really good._

In the gallery, the first thing that caught Harry's eye was a large painting, selling for 700 dollars, of two hills with a dark lake in between, and a sun setting on the horizon. _Wait a tick, that looks _really _familiar. _No sooner than he stopped, he was jostled further into the warehouse by a large group of people waiting to get in.

Harry spent the next half-hour browsing through the gallery; he couldn't help feeling like every painting he perused was familiar somehow, he just couldn't figure out _why_. He accepted champagne from a nearby waiter and sat down on a plush ottoman; _I'm supposed to enjoy this, _he kept reminding himself. Harry opened his messenger, pulled out one of his notepads, uncapped his pen, and set to work trying his hand at critiquing what he'd seen so far. _The colors are pretty. _Harry snorted and quickly crossed that out; ok try to think…artsy. _The color palettes are interesting and blend well together. That sounds better at least_, he thought to himself

He was just about to comment on how the colors in one piece really stood out while still looking almost the same when he heard a gasp behind him and several camera shutters going off. _M-Malfoy? The hell? His hair looks darker and his eyes bluer, but it's definitely him. _Harry turned back to his notepad and half-consumed glass of champagne, patiently waiting until the throng of admirers (at this he smirked to himself; _oh, the irony_) dispersed. He still needed to interview 'Drevon' and look at three more paintings.

When 'Drevon' (he couldn't help himself from sniggering every time he even thought the name) was finally alone, Harry downed his glass and marked off an area for his impromptu interview. _Merlin, he looks good in those Dickies…._"Excuse me, _Drevon,_ may I get a few words from you? I'm writing this article…."

"Potter?" Malfoy hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm a journalist, and if you had let me finish, I'm writing an article for _New York, _and I've been assigned to critique your gallery and get background information on you. Can I ask you some questions?" asked Harry while giving Draco a pointed look.

"Look, Harry, I'm a bit worn from these people. Can we go somewhere else for this? There's a restaurant not far from here in which I have a private dining room to myself…"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, that would kind of be perfect, but-. Won't people kind of…_miss you_?" inquired The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"I don't really care."

Twenty minutes later, Harry and Draco were sitting at a table in a secluded, small room tucked at the back of the restaurant. They were both sipping on their wine when, right in front of Harry's eyes, Draco's hair lightened and his eyes turned to the same grey-silver they had been back at Hogwarts. Harry placed his glass down, and started to clear his throat; at Draco's blank expression, he sighed heavily. "Care to explain?"

"Well, I guess I'll begin from a few years after the war. I received quite a bit of grief, as you know, and I couldn't handle it. I decided to move to Pittsburg about ten years ago, where I met my friend JoAnne; she's the woman who took me to my first art museum. I picked up a brush, started to paint, and fell in love with it; so I moved here to hopefully one day sell my work to buyers all over America. As for my disguise, I go by a different name and appearance when I attend work functions, but I'm…_me_…whenever I'm out and about. I really like it here in New York; it's got that fast paced lifestyle I crave, and I'm not judged for what I've done in the past here. So, what about you?"

"Basically the same as you. I moved here to get out of the spotlight, went to college, got a job, but I always use my real name," Harry quipped, smiling into his glass.

Draco looked at Harry, the ghost of a smile on his own lips. He'd filled out quite a bit since school; gone was the scrawny, gangly boy of twelve years ago. Now he had nice muscle tone, a filled-out face, either Lasik or contacts, and nice broad shoulders. Harry looked like he could throw Draco right over this table and…._I'd rather not finish that line of thought._ "So, what else have you been up to since you moved here? Girlfriend? _Oh, _how are you coping without magic? I must say, for me it was rather difficult at first."

"Not much. A few boyfriends. Quite well thanks. Now can we please get to the interview?"

Draco almost spit up his wine. "You-….When….But….What?"

"Yes, I came out last year; enough about me," snapped Harry, just as their food was brought to the table. "What do you consider your inspiration for your artwork?"

"You know bloody well what, Potter," gritted out Draco, looking to make sure they were again alone in the room. "But of course you can't use that; we're both supposed to be Muggles, for Merlin's sake. Plus, if you did, your boss would think you'd gone mad; he'd probably fire you over it."

"First of all, yes I do know which is why I wanted to talk to you face-to-face, so we could get your story straight. Second, I didn't know you cared so much; really, I'm flattered. Shall we go with a generic answer, like nature or a significant other?"

Draco mumbled something and took a bite of his pasta. "I'll just put nature, then," said Harry, smirking."What got you interested in art; you're friend…ahhh, here's one: what message are you trying to convey to your audience with your artwork?"

"If you don't mind, I'm trying to enjoy my meal. Actually, I'm rather bored with these questions; so unless you're going to make things _interesting_, shut up…" Harry gulped and after hesitating a second, nodded. "Check please," Draco called out, with an evil glint in his eye.

Ok, so what do you think? Do you want another chapter of smutty goodness or do you just want to leave it up to your own imaginations? ;)

Remember, reviews are love!


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: **_This chapter is all Drarry-smutty-goodness, dedicated to Natalie Dani. Don't like, don't read, and no flames please. Enjoy!

Harry and Draco stumbled through the front door to Draco's apartment, already kissing wildly. Harry's sport coat was unceremoniously thrown to the floor and his shirt untucked as Draco moved on to kissing and biting his neck. Harry let out a breathy moan. "Wait, Draco, are you sure we should do this? I mean, one-night-stands can be tricky, not to mention awkward as hell in the morning…"

"Oh my god, Potter, _shut_ _up_!" Draco growls as he devours Harry's pliant mouth once again, trying not to feel hurt that a one-off is all the former Gryffindor wants. Slowly, Draco backs Harry deeper into his living room, thrilling when Harry's legs finally hit the arm of his couch. He straddles the brunette, ripping open his dress shirt, and then latching onto his collar bone, leaving an angry purple mark.

"Ung, Draco," Harry whimpers, thrusting his hips to get some form of friction, while Draco pulls off his own shirt. "Oh, _Merlin….,_" the journalist whines when the blond starts to nibble and suck on his left nipple.

"Do you top or bottom, Harry?" Draco suddenly asks, panting. "I usually bottom but I can go either way."

"I'll top for you, just _please_….."

Draco makes quick work of unbuckling Harry's belt and pulling down the zipper before shimmying the black slacks down mid-thigh, and Harry sighs in relief. The Malfoy heir then reaches his hand down the front of Harry's boxers and curls his pale hand around the former poster boy's engorged erection, gently stroking. Harry's head falls back on the cushions, letting out a long, breathy moan, and Draco can't stop himself from taking advantage of the gorgeous, tanned expanse, biting and licking.

"Draco, please stop teasing me," Harry grits out breathlessly. "I need you. Now. _Please….!_" Draco wandlessly summons lube and condoms from his bedroom. "If you can use magic, why can't you just prepare yourself?"

Harry's pretty sure Draco whispers because he doesn't want to actually be heard, but he hears nonetheless. "Please, I've been dreaming of this forever….." Still, Harry can't bother to pry, especially when he's starting to feel a fire in his stomach this intense. "Please, prepare me?" Draco asks as he sheds his pants and boxers in one go.

Harry coated two fingers with the cool lubricant and gently circled Draco's pink hole, slowly easing in his fingertip. When Draco let out an impatient huff, he quickly pushed in a knuckle, kissing Draco passionately and swallowing his grunts. Gradually, he inserted an entire finger and quickly added a second when Draco started pushing back onto him. He scissored his fingers, slowly opening Draco up, but the blond insisted he add a third or just get down to business.

Finally, _finally_, Harry lay Draco on his back, taking his own cock in hand and leading it toward the pink, waiting hole; instead of thrusting it in, however, Harry circled Draco's entrance again. "You're a bloody tease, Potter. _Please_?" Draco mewls, and then gasps as Harry, without warning, thrusts into him, to the hilt. "_Yes…."_

Harry angles his hips over and over, trying to find the right spot, and when Draco emits a high-pitched whine, he knows he's hit it. With a smirk on his face, although biting his lip to stave off orgasm (which really defeats the whole purpose), Harry jabs relentlessly into Draco's prostate, loving the sounds he's tearing from the artists' throat. _Merlin, this just feels so right…._ Draco wraps his arms tightly around Harry, like he's afraid once they're done, the brunette will just vanish into thin air. "Harry, I'm_ so_ close….."

"Me too," grits out Harry, as he reaches down to pump Draco's cock, still pounding into the blond's tight heat. One, two, three more thrusts, and both wizards are cumming hard, panting.

After coming down from their post-orgasmic highs, Harry pulls out of Draco's body, Draco wincing slightly. The brunette maneuvers himself so that Draco can lay on him, his head tucked under Harry's chin, as Harry stroke his sweaty, platinum locks. "Please don't leave," whispers Draco into the crook of Harry's neck.

"Draco, even if I wanted to, I'm pretty sure I couldn't," Harry admits, chuckling, before he kisses Draco on the forehead.

So, this is my first attempt at pure smut, so let me know how I did. Thanks!


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